Bombs Away
by c-bellz
Summary: Noah Paige had lived in Beacon Hills most of her life along with her parents and her fraternal twin sister. Sure, some crazy shit happened, but Noah was extraordinarily unextraordinary, a wallflower in every sense of the word. But after a lifetime of living in the shadows, maybe it's about time Noah steps out into the spotlight. She just needs a little push. Bombs away.
1. Drift

_I am  
Just another number  
Stack me up, I'll crumble  
And drift along_

Beep. Beep. Noah. Beep. Beep. Nooooah. Beep. Beep. Noah! Beep. Beep.

I groggily reached my hand over, searching for the snooze button on the side of my alarm.

"Nwah-"

My hand made contact with something wet and slimy and my eyes shot open as I immediately jumped up. Two things were wrong with the situation splayed out in front of me. The first was that I was sitting at my desk as opposed to laying in my bed, the damp spot on the notebook I had been using as a pillow reminding me to wipe at my mouth and mop up the excess drool. And the second was that my hand was not in fact resting on the snooze button on my alarm, but instead found itself halfway in my sister's mouth. She made a face at me, biting down on my fingers before I quickly retracted them.

"Ew oh my god, gross Dylan!" I wiped my hand down her shirt as she laughed, pushing me up and out of the chair.

"You're the one who shoved your hand down my throat, not me." She scooped up the notebook, flipping through the pages as she shook her head. "Did you stay up all night _doodling_?" I yawned as I made my way over to my bed, collapsing down onto it and curling up into a ball.

"I don't know, I don't remember." I mumbled against my comforter, letting my eyes drift closed one more time. Five more minutes wouldn't kill anyone.

"Yes you do, you remember _everything_." I heard her flip the pages a few more times before setting the notebook back down on my desk. "Oh no you don't! Noah, come on! It's time to _get up_!" She threw herself on top of me, messing up my hair as she pulled at my shoulders. I made a noise of protest before, turning over and promptly throwing my fraternal twin sister off of me, and consequently, off the side of the bed.

I heard the rush of air leave her mouth as she hit the ground with a dull thud, and I peeked at her through one open eye. I saw her body tense as she prepared to lunge again, and rolled back over to the other side of the bed as she leapt. She landed next to me with a frustrated yelp before reaching her arm out to shove me to the ground.

I clung to my comforter like it was dry land, and I was a cat about to be thrown into a vat of water. The entire thing slid off the bed, taking Dylan with me, and when we finally hit the ground she gave my arm a hard slap to let me know she was done playing around.

"You know, you could always join the martial arts club at school." Dylan offered, yanking me up by my arm and sitting me down on my blanket-less bed.

"_Dylan_," I warned, rubbing tiredly at my eyes. It was way too early for this conversation.

"What? There are some really cool people in the club, and your reflexes are so fast already. You were like made to learn that kind of shit!"

"You have .3 seconds to end this conversation, or my pillow is the next thing I will be shoving down your throat."

"You could make a lot of friends Noah!" I rolled my eyes, letting my pillow fly through the air as it made contact with Dylan's brown curls.

Now I know we might seem like a particularly violent family, but we're really not. In fact, Dylan and I get along better than most siblings. She was my best friend. And apparently, that was the issue. We had had this argument so many times that I could actually recite it in my sleep.

"I just want you to have other friends Noah," she'd say, as if I cared. So what if I had minimal friends? Aside from my sister I had a grand total of two other friends, and to be honest Mason was more of an acquaintance. But I didn't mind it. Not really. Less friends meant less drama anyway.

I mean, just between you and me, I did kind of mind it. Being alone sucked sometimes, but other times it was peaceful. And I liked to sit back and observe. But when it came down to it, yeah, I envied my sister. Dylan had it all. Lots of friends, lots of talents, and a sparkling personality everyone wanted to get to know. And what did I have? Social anxiety, a knack for finding myself in awkward and embarrassing situations, and a wallflower status so prominent it was a household nickname.

But I'd never admit that, especially not to Dyl. It wasn't her fault she was a star. She just _was_. And I knew she was just worried about me. Any success she had meant wondering if I secretly hated her for it. And no matter how often I assured her that I would love her no matter what, it never helped. That was our dynamic. It was pretty typical as far as siblings went I guess. There was always one who was just better than the other at certain things. Maybe it was usually more balanced out than it was with us, but hey, genetics aren't exactly fair.

"Noah! Are you even listening to me?"

"No," I looked back up at her, shaking my head.

"Kayleen is great and all, but I just think you'd be a lot happier if you had a few more people you could hang out with and stuff." She dug out a black dress from the depths of my wardrobe and held it out to me idly.

"Maybe," I nodded, standing up and taking the hanger from her, promptly shoving it back into the closet. "Guess we'll never know."

"What about Mason's new friend? He's a lacrosse prodigy and he's new so he doesn't know anything about you yet!" She tried cheerfully, wincing as I shot her a look. "I-I didn't mean it like-" I held up my hand to silence her, before putting three of my five fingers down, the remaining two standing tall and accusingly.

"Two things. One, I'm pretty sure building a friendship on the premise of 'he's new so he doesn't know about you yet' is a no-no. And two, I don't even like lacrosse that much."

"No, you just like Scott McCall." She wiggled her eyebrows and I took that as my cue to gently escort her out of my room. "I was just kidding! I was kidding!" she struggled against me, clinging to my doorframe as I shoved her across the hall. "I could talk to Stiles and see if he's interested!"

"Don't!" I froze, my eyes tripling in size. "Don't. Especially after what happened with Allison." Dylan grew somber, drawing her lips in as she nodded.

"Yeah okay, you're right. I won't. Not yet anyway." She winked, tossing her hair over her shoulder and strutting into her bedroom directly across from mine.

"Not _yet_? Dylan!" I ran after her, plopping down on her pristine bed as she began sorting through her own closet. "He'd never like me anyway. I'm a nobody freshman."

"Well that's why I'm trying to make you somebody!" Dylan shot me a dazzling smile and I sighed.

"No, you're trying to make me somebody _I'm not_." Her smile faltered, and she set the red dress she was holding down on the bed.

"Noah, I-"

"I know. You were just trying to help." I nodded, my lips pursed into a thin line as I stared at my feet swinging over the edge of the bed. She was always just trying to help. She took my face in her hands as she bent down, so that our eyes were level.

"Noah you know I love you just the way you are, and I wouldn't trade or change you for the world." I did my best to give her a reassuring smile, but even I knew it was shit. She squeezed my cheeks, nudging my nose with her own. "Hey. I mean it. I just know that you're unhappy sometimes. Just because you're too stubborn to admit it doesn't mean it's not true. My eyes may not be as good as yours, but they still _work_." She brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and helped me up off of the bed.

"You know, I'm the older one. Aren't I supposed to be the one giving you inspirational pep talks?"

"I'm sure your time will come." She smiled pushing me towards the door. "And you're only older by eight minutes."

"Best eight minutes of my life."

"Rude!" She laughed, smacking my shoulder. "Now go get dressed. A new semester means a new start. Maybe you'll catch someone's eye." She winked at me, pointing at her neck to remind me of the small eye necklace which hung around my own.

"It's not so new when you've known everyone there since kindergarten," I mumbled under my breath, my hand instinctually going to the necklace anyway. I shook my head as I walked back into my room, shutting the door quietly before beginning to dig through my closet.

I fished out a black sleeveless top with a moon design on the front and threw it on the bed, along with a red plaid flannel. After shimmying into my overly-distressed jeans, I shrugged on my layers and tied up my ankle boots before attempting to run a brush through my tangled hair.

Dylan and I were twins. Fraternal twins, to be exact. Where Dylan had chocolate brown locks, and movie star eyes to match, I was your typical blonde haired blue eyed nobody. Even though we had similar faces and bodies, somehow it all just worked _better_ on Dylan. Even kids who didn't _know_ her knew her. And they knew me as "Dylan's sister".

I couldn't blame them though. She was my own flesh and blood and even I was still enamored by her. With a groan, I hefted my backpack up onto my shoulder, making my way downstairs into the kitchen. Dylan was already there, dressed in a red skater dress and tights, a cream colored cardigan thrown over her shoulder as she frantically opened drawers.

"Have you seen my necklace?" She asked as soon as I entered the room, without even looking up at me.

"No, but why would it be in the kitchen…?"

"I don't know! But I've looked everywhere else!" She looked up, her eyes wide with panic and her hair just beginning to fall out of the tight knot atop her head.

"Hey, easy. It's okay, we'll find it." I placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "Go get us some lunch money, and I'll look for your necklace."

"Mom's looking upstairs." She let out a breath and nodded, walking over to the jar on top of the counter filled with so many singles you'd think there was a stripper in the family.

I ran up the stairs, quickly glancing at the hallway clock to make sure we weren't going to miss the bus, before bursting into Dylan's room. My mother was there in her bathroom, yawning as she pulled back Dylan's comforters, checking beneath her sheets.

"Hey mom, how are you?" I gave her a kiss on the cheek before ducking down to check under the bed.

"Hi sweetie. Tired. My shift at the station ran a bit longer than I anticipated. This town has some of the craziest shit I've ever seen. I just got home a few hours ago."

"You can go back to bed mom, I'll find it." I stood up, taking a minute to survey the room.

"Are you sure?" she gave me a tired smile as I nodded at her, still looking around the room. "My little wallflower, you always manage to find everything on your own anyway, don't you?" She ruffled my hair, giving me a kiss on the top of my head. She left the room silently as I began my process.

It's true, I was the house's human finder. I could find just about anything. It was one of the few talents I possessed, and it was pretty mundane but I liked it. It made me feel useful for once. I relaxed myself, letting my eyes drift shut and erase the chaos in front of me so I could begin anew. When I opened them, it was as if I were looking through different eyes. Everything was sharper, clearer, and more vivid. I saw a vague shadow behind her closet door, and moved to open it, staring down at her hamper.

Even that had everything in order. I rolled my eyes at my sister's pristine _everything_, and began digging. I saw the chain before I had even gotten to the bottom of the hamper, a small glint of gold buried beneath waves of clothes. And there it was, hooked to a pink bra draped over the side of the hamper. A golden chain with a small golden sun at the end of it. I smiled to myself, checking the clock on Dylan's night table.

The smile fell from my face and I raced downstairs just as Dylan began shouting for me.

"I got it, I got it, let's go let's go let's go!" I yelled, pulling her arm after me as I passed her, running out the door to where the bus was waiting across the street. We climbed on just in time, the doors shutting behind me as we found a seat.

Being the last bus stop probably sucked in normal situations. But being the last bus stop when your only friend didn't take the same bus as you? Pure torture. Dylan found a seat easily, as always. I spotted Mason a few rows back, with Garrett and Violet sitting behind him, sucking face. I rolled my eyes and approached his seat cautiously, consciously aware of the fact that we weren't _really_ friends.

"Um…Can I sit here?" His eyes flicked up at me from his phone, and his face broke into a grin.

"Hey Noah! Sure, let me just move my backpack." He knocked it off the seat and onto the floor, and gestured grandly to the empty spot beside him. "Your throne awaits." I laughed, smiling at him in relief as I sat down, kicking my bag under my feet.

"How was your break?"

"It was good! It was good, made some new friends. Right guys?" He turned in his seat to Garrett and Violet who were whispering to each other and giggling, probably about how Mason got stuck sitting with such a loser.

"Huh?" Garrett cocked an eyebrow, gracing us with a cocky smile.

"Liam's cool, right?"

"Oh yeah, Liam's awesome. Sick lacrosse player from what I hear. We'll see tomorrow though. You guys are coming to tryouts, right?"

"I am, definitely." Mason smiled, turning to me with his eyebrows raised. "What about you Noah?"

"Um…"

"Would that witch of a best friend even let you?" Violet laughed, and I narrowed my eyes.

"Kayleen is not a witch." I felt my hands instinctually clench up as Garrett chuckled alongside her.

"Hey, cool it would you Vi?"

"Sorry, I'm sure she's not _actually_ a witch." I let my shoulders relax slightly, as the ridicule came to an end. "She just dresses like one." She eyed me for a minute and gave me an innocent smile. "Do you guys share a wardrobe or something?" She let out another malicious laugh as the bus came to a halt in front of the school.

I nodded slightly, considering her words for a minute before I grabbed my bag and stood up.

"You know, I really liked you better when your mouth was attached to your boyfriend's. I'll see you later Mason." I marched off the bus with my head held high, feeling an odd sense of pride. But as soon as I was inside the halls of Beacon Hills High, my anxiety came flooding back to me.

I reached my locker in a state of nervous panic. My hands shook as I turned the dial, my locker bouncing open with a click. Why had I said that? To Violet of all people? They were probably laughing at how lame of a comeback it was. Why couldn't I have come up with something wittier? Dylan would have. Dylan would've made sure Violet never said anything nasty again.

"Hey there stranger, long time no see." I jumped at the sound of a voice that was not my own, and Kayleen studied me for a minute before reaching out to me. "Whoa, you okay? You're as white as a ghost."

"Yeah, yeah I just…um on the bus I…Violet was saying…I just uh…"

"Noah, it's me. It's okay." I nodded, blinking more than I knew was necessary but unable to stop myself anyways. "Should I get Dylan?"

"No! No, don't. Don't get Dylan. I'm alright. I just need to…" I trailed off, closing my eyes and letting myself take a deep breath. I know a lot of people are scared of the dark, but for me it's actually pretty comforting. People aren't so scary when you can pretend they're not there. "Violet was making fun of you. And then me. And I told her off. But I don't think I did a very good job." I let out another breath and opened my eyes. Kayleen gave me a sad smile before playfully punching my arm.

"I'm sure you did a great job. She's probably quaking in her fake designer boots." I laughed, smiling back at her, thankful that I had at least someone that was willing to put up with me who wasn't already obligated to. The smile dropped from her face as she glanced behind me, turning back to my locker to slam it shut, nearly getting my hand caught in the crossfire.

"Dude, what gives?"

"Scott and Stiles, two o'clock. Be cool." I felt my heart plummet as I spun around, and sure enough there they were. Stiles Stilinski, all pale skin and flailing limbs, and Scott McCall, looking as graceful and perfect as ever. He looked over at us as they passed, and smiled at us in the middle of whatever story Stiles was telling him. And then it was over and they were walking away, towards the upperclassman lockers.

"Did you see that?! He totally smiled at you!"

"He smiles at _everyone_. It's _Scott McCall_." I shook my head, but I couldn't get rid of the dumb grin plastered on my face or the slight burning of my cheeks. She wiggled her eyebrows at me and I rolled my eyes, pushing her down the hallway. "Come on, let's get to class."

I don't want to say that having math first period is one of the worst things that can happen to you in your life, aside from maybe dying. But having math first period is one of the worst things that can happen to you in your life, aside from maybe dying. Especially having math first period with Mrs. Arnold.

Rumor has it that she was a former nazi, and I wouldn't doubt it. Not only does she not allow bathroom breaks, but she gives a pop quiz every time someone forgets to do the homework, and she only calls on you if you don't know the answer. It's been scientifically proven. And on top of all of that, she _still_ didn't know my name.

"Natalie?" The bell rang as I took my seat, fishing out a notebook and a pen from my backpack. "Natalie Paige!" Mrs. Arnold's voice boomed throughout the room and I sighed at the sound of my last name. I looked up to find her beady eyes boring holes into my head from her desk at the front of the classroom. I stood up, taking the walk of shame down the aisle to the front of the classroom.

As I passed the open door, a boy with brown hair and a schedule crumpled up in his hand came barreling through, almost knocking me to the ground. He caught me at the last second, setting me upright and dusting off my shoulder as I stared at him bewildered.

"Sorry," he said sincerely, giving me a nervous look as he moved passed me to take one of the few remaining seats. I shook myself off, making my way over to Mrs. Arnold's desk.

"Did you mean me?" I asked meekly, gesturing to myself.

"Well are you Natalie Paige?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"No," I answered seriously, shaking my head. "I'm _Noah_ Paige. My name is Noah."

"Noah, Noah, right, sorry." She nodded once, before furrowing her brow. "Noah? Were your parents expecting a boy?" she chuckled and I felt my cheeks flood with the burning heat of embarrassment.

"Well my sister's name is Dylan…" I tried, joking lightly with her in hopes of saving myself from the ridicule she was about to deliver. She just stared blankly however and my attempts at a light smile faltered. I cleared my throat, looking down at the papers on her desk before back up at her. "Um yeah, our parents were expecting boys. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I was informed of an incident this morning on the bus."

"I'm sorry?" My heart rate picked up as my palms grew clammy. Someone had told her about the argument with Violet? But it wasn't even really an argument. I couldn't get in trouble for saying something like that, could I? No, no it was just a comment said in self-defense. Maybe she wanted to tell me she talked to Violet about the consequences of bullying.

"I know that there was almost an altercation between you and Violet Logan."

"What? No, no we just-" I croaked out, feeling my mouth run dry.

"Miss Paige, do not interrupt me. I just wanted to inform you that here at Beacon Hills High School, we do not tolerate violence."

"But I didn't-"

"So consider this your warning. The next time something like this happens, I will be forced to take disciplinary action."

"Mrs. Arnold, I _didn't_-"

"You may have a seat Miss Paige." I stood there in shock, my mouth slightly open and my brow still furrowed. She raised her eyebrows as she gestured back to my seat, and I turned around silently and sat back down, letting my head fall onto my notebook.

I saw Dylan give me a worried look from across the classroom, her conversation with her friends temporarily on hold. Next to me, Kayleen kicked my foot to alert my attention to the small note on my desk.

_What happened?_

I glanced up at her, giving a small shake of my head.

_I'll tell you later._

"Mr. Dunbar, I see you've finally decided to join us."

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I got a little lost." The boy who had ran into me spoke from his seat beside Mason. I saw Dylan look at me and give a small nod towards the boy. That must have been Mason's new friend she was talking about.

"Well why don't you come up here and introduce yourself to the class?"

"Oh, I don't really think that-" He laughed, shaking his head.

"Now, Mr. Dunbar." Mrs. Arnold gave him a threatening smile and his expression fell.

"Oh-kay." He breathed, tapping his hands on his desk nervously before standing up and walking to the front of the classroom. "Um, hi. I'm Liam. I'm a freshman. Obviously. I uh, just transferred from Devenford Prep for lacrosse. And yeah. Nice to meet you all." He gave an awkward wave and looked at Mrs. Arnold, waiting for the okay to return to his seat.

She huffed, nodding at him and gesturing back towards his seat. The rest of the lecture was nonsense mumbo jumbo that even math experts probably wouldn't have understood. Instead I let my mind wander.

I had all but perfected the art of day dreaming while multitasking. I drifted through the entire day in my own little world where I was the star and everyone loved and adored me. People didn't bully me or my friends, and boys fought to win my affection. And Scott McCall knew I existed. In my dream world I was a part of their little pack. A crucial part. They all loved me and thought I was nice and funny and pretty and

"Hello? Earth to Noah." Dylan waved her hands in front of my face, as I sat underneath a tree staring at the grass in front of me. "Did you hear me?"

"Nope." I popped my 'p', gathering up my books and hopping up.

"Oh so I guess you _don't_ want to have lunch with Scott and his friends?"

"WHAT?" I whipped my head towards her, almost dropping my backpack as I fumbled to get it over my shoulder. Dylan laughed at me, throwing an arm around my shoulders and steering me towards the tables littered around the lawn.

"Yep. I talked to Stiles and asked if we could have lunch with them. So just try not to embarrass us, okay?"

"Shut up," I nudged her side with my elbow, but wrapped my arm around her waist subsequently. As soon as their table was within eyesight, which was much sooner for me than for Dylan, I felt my pulse take off. _Stay calm Noah. Don't embarrass yourself._

And that was the moment when my boot caught on a tree root, sending both me and my sister flying. We landed in a crumpled mess on the ground, and Dylan quickly untangled herself and smoothed out her dress in one swift, graceful motion.

I on the other hand, stayed on the ground, trying to yank my foot free of the root. My laces had come undone and threaded themselves around the branch, and I let out a heavy sigh as I began trying to unknot them.

"Are you okay?" I looked up and there was Scott McCall, already working on untying my laces. I stared at him for a minute until Dylan kneed my shoulder, reminding me that I had a voice.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah we're okay. Right Dyl?"

"Yeah, we're good. How are you Scott?"

"I'm alright, thanks! How are you Dylan?" he successfully freed my foot, offering me a hand and helping me up.

"I am swell, thank you for asking." Dylan curtsied, picking up my bag and handing it to me.

"And how are you? Noah, right? Has your first day back been okay?"

"To be honest I've seen better days…" I pulled my lips in, feeling my heart skip a beat as Scott put his hand on my back to guide us over to the table. He gave me an odd look and for a minute I panicked, wondering if my heart was beating so loud that it was audible.

But then his smile was back and he took his seat next to Stiles.

"Oh yeah, I was gonna ask, what happened with Mrs. Arnold?" Dylan sat down across from Stiles and I sat down next to her.

"Oh, you guys have Mrs. Arnold? Tough break man, I'm sorry." Stiles interrupted, his conversation with the brunette next to him clearly over.

"Who's Mrs. Arnold?" She asked, looking mildly interested in our conversation.

"She's a freshman math teacher. She's a nightmare." Stiles winced, and Malia mimicked him.

"Math is horrible enough."

"Right?" Dylan chimed in, digging her apple out of her backpack. "Oh right. Noah, this is Malia."

"Hi," Malia waved, giving me a small smile.

"Hi, I'm Noah." I waved back.

"And you already know Scott and Stiles."

"Hey Noah, how ya doing?" Stiles nodded towards me and I opened my mouth to speak, but Scott cut me off.

"Apparently not that great. What happened?"

"Oh it's um…it's nothing."

"Come on Noah, what did Mrs. Arnold say?"

"I don't really wanna get into it right now…" I gave Dylan a reproachful look, as she continued to ignore the 'I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it-in-front-of-actual-angel-Scott-McCall' hints I was dropping.

"If you don't want to talk about it we don't have to. We can talk about something else!"

"Like what?" Dylan asked, her mind already switching gears.

Thank you, I mouthed to Scott and he nodded, smiling at me before waving at someone behind me.

"Kira, over here!"

"There you guys are," Kira set down her tray of food and sat down beside me, grinning and holding out her hand. "Hi, I'm Kira."

"I'm Noah," I took her hand with a smile, giving it a shake. The good thing about being a recluse was that I got to observe. Kira Yukimura was still pretty new at school, having transferred here last semester, but you could learn a lot just by sitting back and watching someone. Her style was perfect, and she was always so sweet and welcoming.

"Where's Lydia?" Dylan asked, taking a bite out of her apple.

"Oh, she didn't come to school today."

"Really? That's not like her." Lydia Martin was one of the most popular girls in school, and definitely the smartest. My sister idolized her, and she was nice enough to acknowledge our existence.

"Yeah, she wasn't feeling well." Scott nodded, glancing at Stiles, Malia and Kira before looking down at his hands.

"Are you guys excited for lacrosse tryouts?" Dylan questioned, observing me out of the corner of her eyes.

"Yeah, definitely. Are you guys gonna come and watch?" Scott nodded enthusiastically, clearly relieved about the subject change.

"I have a voice lesson, so I don't think I'll make it. Noah will go though, won't you?"

"Um yeah, I was thinking about going."

"Oh cool, you can sit with me and Malia!" Kira smiled at me like I had helped put the stars in the sky, and I felt my nerves dissolve away.

"That'd be cool. If you don't mind, that is?"

"Of course not!"

"You can help me with my math homework." Malia added, and I broke out into a grin.

"I can try, but you'll probably be worse off that way."

"I can't get much worse than I already am, trust me."

The rest of the lunch period was filled with easy conversations and a lot of laughter, and despite the pile of nerves still sitting in my stomach, I was okay. Dylan may have been forcing me to make friends, but at least Scott and his friends were nice. I was relatively quiet, speaking only when spoken to, but I saw everything.

Stiles' and Malia's heads bent just slightly towards each other, the way Malia seemed to not just be new to school, but also to life as a teenager, the way Scott and Kira looked at each other, like they knew a secret the rest of the world never would. My heart dropped a little, seeing Scott look at Kira like that. It was a look I had seen so many boys wear, though never for me. But in the end it's not like I actually expected Scott McCall to like a little freshman, especially a meek and quiet one like me.

But Kira was sweet, and if he was going to like anyone, I guess I'm glad it was Kira. Still, I avoided watching them for the rest of lunch, to spare my already bruised feelings. I noticed Dylan, idly staring at a table a few meters away, where Garrett, Violet, Mason and Liam sat. Though Dylan didn't really know Violet that well, I knew she was good friends with Garrett and Mason. I also knew that she had wanted to be more than friends with Garrett until Violet came along.

I'd never tell her I knew that though. She'd never admit to it. But I saw how she looked at him, how she talked to him, practically how she thought about it. Garrett wasn't exactly citizen of the year, but part of me hoped that he'd dump Violet for my sister. Maybe she'd be a good influence on him. She was a good influence on just about everyone else. Plus I'd love to see Violet's face as she saw Garrett and Dylan together.

My eyes drifted to Violet, laughing at something Mason had said. She threw her head back, her black hair falling behind her as she laughed, her arm instinctually wrapping around Garrett's neck. She pulled herself closer to him, whispering something before placing a kiss on his neck. Choke on a dick Violet.

Mason kept talking, reminding me of a more tame Stiles, using his arms as he spoke. He had the entire table in stitches, and I felt a dull ache in my chest. It happened every now and then, the physical manifestation of loneliness at its finest. I kept telling myself I was happy with what I had in life. But there was always that little voice in the back of my head saying _but are you really?_

And the truth was no. I wanted friends. I wanted to be a part of something _bigger_, I wanted to _matter_. But I was too shy and quiet and I didn't have that much to offer to be honest. I know I should've tried more, but the fear of rejection was too much for me. So I settled for what I had, as unhappy as I might've been. As long as I pretended I was happy, maybe one day I'd finally believe it myself. Fake it till you make it, right?

Mason caught Liam in a headlock, ruffling his hair as Liam fought him off. He was smiling at Mason, and then he was smiling at me, his eyes so blue I could practically see my reflection in them, despite how far away he was sitting. His smile faltered, replaced with a look of vague interest and curiosity and that was when it hit me that he was staring at me. He was staring at me stare at him.

I immediately turned away, my eyes dropping to my hands clasped on the table. He was looking at me. He saw me staring. That had _never_ happened before. Not ever. No one ever noticed me; I was a wallflower. I saw without being seen.

I cautiously peeked back over, my hair hanging over my shoulder like a two-way mirror for me to hide behind if necessary. He had gone back to talking to Mason, laughing as Mason told another story very animatedly. Phew.

"You okay?" Stiles asked, cocking his head at me as everyone at the table stared.

"Uh yeah…yeah, I'm good." I brought my fingers to my mouth, chewing on my nail as Stiles and Scott resumed their conversation, and everything went back to normal.

For them anyway. If you ask me, this was the very moment that my life changed forever.

**A/N: So I promised myself I wouldn't start another story until I finished Silhouette, but as you can see that was a promise I failed to keep. With the absence of Isaac this season, I fell in love with yet another character, Mr. Liam Dunbar. So here is a story I had been planning since Liam's first episode. Now that season 4 is complete and I know where I want to go with this story, I couldn't resist starting it. I'm still going to be writing Silhouette and How To Be A Heartbreaker, but I've decided to make my life more difficult and add Bombs Away to the mix. So I hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think! :D**

**P.S. sorry this author's note is weirdly formatted. I can't put in a line break anymore for some reason? So yeah. :x**

**Lots of love!  
-Briana**


	2. Colors

_You're dripping like a saturated sunrise  
__You're spilling like an overflowing sink_

After lunch, the rest of the day had passed pretty quickly. I kept to myself, as usual, vaguely aware of the feeling that I was being watched. But I chalked it up to paranoia and anxiety, doodling hands and eyes in my notebook throughout the rest of my classes, heaving a sigh of relief when I got a text from Dylan saying we didn't need to take the bus home today.

"Thanks for picking us up dad," Dylan started, pulling open the passenger's side door of our fathers truck.

"No problem sweetie." He gave her a kiss on the cheek as I climbed into the back, taking Dylan's backpack from her and throwing it onto the empty seat next to mine.

"We're on dinner duty. What are you guys in the mood for?"

"Tacos," we said in unison, neither of us batting an eyelash. Our dad laughed, pulling away from the curb and navigating through the busy parking lot.

"Okay then, tacos it is. How did your first day back at school go?"

"It went," I responded, staring out the window as we passed the busses, watching the rowdy teenagers pushing each other off the seats.

"That bad, huh?"

"What did Mrs. Arnold want? You never told me at lunch!"

"That's because I didn't want our _entire lunch table_ knowing." I emphasized, narrowing my eyes at her to let her know that by entire lunch table, I meant Scott McCall. I mean sure, the whole 'almost-started-a-fight' thing was a lie, but I didn't need king-of-all-that's-good-and-pure Scott McCall to hear something like that at all.

Dylan waved me off, leaning further around her seat to listen to the story.

"It was nothing really. Violet said some stuff to me on the bus, and then I said some stuff back and then apparently someone told Mrs. Arnold that I tried to start a fight."

"You tried to start a fight?!" My father spoke up, pulling into the nearest Taco Bell parking lot.

"No, someone started a rumor that she tried to start a fight." Dylan clarified, reaching over to turn the keys in the ignition, removing them and plopping them into dad's hands. "We want the usual." She smiled, shooing him out of the car. He sighed, but went, his blue nurse scrubs looking bright and stark against the suburban setting.

I watched him hold open the door for an old man, smiling broadly at him in a way I could only describe as a "Dylan-smile." Dylan was so much like our father it was kind of terrifying. She was literally the female version of him. She had his brown hair and brown eyes, his sparkling personality, she even scrunched up her nose when she lied like our father (the unfortunate tell that alerted us to the fact that, spoiler alert, Santa Claus is not actually real. Bummer, right? Life is just all downhill after that).

"Noah!" Dylan snapped her fingers in front of my face, jolting me back to the here and now. "Do you ever listen to me when I speak? For the love of god, maybe if you stopped living inside of your head and started living in the real world, Scott McCall would notice you!"

The words hit me like a slap across the face, and as soon as they came out of Dylan's mouth I could see the brief sense of regret flash across her features. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared though, and instead she just repositioned herself and softened her expression slightly. Dylan Paige had no regrets. I blinked at her once before turning my head back towards the window.

"So? What did Violet actually say to you?"

"I don't know, I was too busy living in my head to actually hear her."

"Noah, don't be like that."

"Well how would like me to be Dylan?" I tugged at the sleeves of my flannel, before crossing my arms over my chest and glancing back over to her with narrowed eyes. "Oh wait, I know that answer."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Dylan mirrored my posture, cocking her head to the side in annoyance.

"Well you're not exactly shy about telling me all the ways in which I need to change myself."

"I'm just trying to make you happier!" Her expression grew exasperated, her arms rising up for a minute before falling to her sides. I felt an invisible string inside me snap, all of the calm composure I could usually manage to fake completely evaporated. I could practically feel the fire burning in my eyes as I turned them on her, my cheeks flaring up in rage.

"Do you even hear yourself Dylan?! You constantly telling me I'm not good enough the way I am is _never_ going to make me happy!" I screamed, leaning forward in my seat. Her eyes went wide as she leaned away from me, looking somewhere in between shocked and appalled. "All that does is let me know that I don't live up to your standards. And maybe I _am_ unhappy with my life right now. But that doesn't mean I want to be what _you_ want me to be either!"

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes before they started falling, and managed to swipe my hands quickly across my face as our father opened the door. He handed me the two bags of tacos and started up the car again, trying to make small talk. I stayed quiet, refusing to even look Dylan's way, answering my father only when directly spoken to. As soon as we pulled into the driveway I grabbed the food and my book bag, hopping out of the car and hastily making my way inside. I dropped the bag of food onto the kitchen counter, taking as many tacos as I could carry from it, a plate from the cabinet, and some napkins from the table, before climbing the stairs and barricading myself into my room.

After eating my weight (and half of Dylan's) in Mexican food, I decided that my sorrows were officially drowned. But that didn't mean I wasn't going to put on my sad music and stare out my window until the sun went down.

As soon as it was dark enough, I propped my window open and climbed out onto the small ledge of roof below it. Equipped with my slingshot in one hand, and a handful of paintballs in the other, I tucked my knees up to my chest and let the sweet, sweet sounds of You Me At Six engulf me and my problems.

There was a knock on my door and I ignored it, loading a paintball into the slingshot and aiming it at the nearest tree. The door opened a crack, and then all at once, as Dylan silently tiptoed across my floor. I didn't even need to turn around to know it was her though. She had such light and graceful footsteps compared to my father's heavy trot and my mother's careful and measured walk. Dylan was effortless in everything she did.

"Please, don't shoot me!" She exclaimed, pitching her voice a few octaves higher to impersonate the tree currently in the center of my mental bullseye.

I ignored her completely, squeezing one eye shut as I braced my tongue against the inside of my teeth. I released the slingshot with a snap and watched as the bark bled yellow.

"Ouch. What did the tree do to you?"

"Nothing. I was imagining your face pinned to it." I turned to look at her, a sarcastically pleasant smile strewn across my face. She pursed her lips forward and nodded slowly, before ducking her head through the window and climbing out onto the roof with me.

"Oh-kay. I deserved that one." She folded her feet underneath her, smoothing out her dress.

"Yep." I popped my 'p', loading another paintball into the slingshot and firing. A splotch of pink paint bled down over the yellow and I twirled a strand of hair around my finger. "You deserved that one too."

"I'm sorry Noah."

I gasped, bringing my hand to my mouth in mock shock. "Do my ears deceive me? Did _the_ Dylan Paige just _apologize_?" She rolled her eyes and nudged my shoulder with her own, earning a smile from me.

"Will you shut up? I'm trying to be sentimental here." She bit back her own smile, turning to look out across the empty street. "I don't mean to put you down like that so often. I just want you to be happy. But I don't want to change you. I wouldn't trade you for the world, you have to know that."

"Of course I do. Who else would put up with all of your perfection with such a unique mix of admiration and disgust?"

"You're so encouraging."

"I try my best."

She stuck her middle finger up at me and I bent forward, placing a kiss on her fingertip. "I'm not perfect though."

"You're the closest thing humanly possible to it."

"Tell that to-" There was a loud crash at the end of the street, followed by bellowing laughter, as Garrett tumbled around the corner inside someone's garbage can. "Garrett."

"Well Garrett is trash, and he seems to have finally realized that himself." I pointed out, warranting a slap on the arm from Dylan. Violet came running into view, giggling as she helped Garrett out of the plastic bin and onto his feet. Liam followed, along with three other kids I had known (and hated) since kindergarten.

"All he ever talks about is Violet."

"Violet is a great big bag of dicks. My extreme distain for her is actually starting to affect my everyday life. I can't look at anything purple without feeling mild repulsion." Dylan cracked a smile at that, and I reached behind me to produce a purple paintball. "Look at this. I _might_ vomit."

She threw her head back and laughed, scrunching up her nose. "Ew, please don't!" I felt a small pit of rage open up inside my stomach, thinking of how Violet, nasty bitchy Violet was stealing away some of my sister's happiness. I reached behind me again, grabbing my slingshot and placing it in Dylan's hand.

"Here," I handed her the small purple ball of paint and nodded towards the tree.

She bit her lip for a moment, staring down at the weapons I had just equipped her with. Violet made a particularly loud squeak from down the block as Garrett picked her up and swung her around.

My eyes flitted over them, landing directly on Liam. He stood off to the side with his hands shoved into his pockets, smiling slightly at his friends wrestling each other in the middle of the street. Kiernan (a red haired boy who was pretty tall for his age, with green eyes and a spattering of freckles across his nose, who happened to live in the house they were currently loitering in front of) snuck up behind him, diving to the ground to grab Liam's ankles and take him down.

After a few seconds of laughter and shit talking, Liam had flipped Kiernan over and pinned him to the ground. I felt my eyebrows instinctively rise, and I nodded, somewhat impressed. I mean, Liam was literally half the size of Kiernan. And yet, there he was, sitting on Kiernan's back with the kid's arms restrained behind him.

"Noah?" Dylan waved a hand in front of my face and I snapped back to attention.

"Yep, still here. Sorry."

"I was saying, how far does this thing shoot?"

I drew my eyebrows together, giving her a skeptical look. "I guess it depends on how hard you draw it back. Why?"

"Would it reach, say, down the block…?" Dylan bit her lip to hide the sinister smile spreading across her face. The lightbulb clicked in my head, and I did my best impersonation of the Cheshire cat, grinning ear to ear.

"Why don't we find out?" I extended my arm in front of me, gesturing towards the group of boys (and Violet). "After you."

I watched as Dylan raised the slingshot up, ammunition already loaded, and turned to me for one last nod of approval.

I obliged, giving her a wicked grin as I nodded. "Bombs away."

At that she let it fly, and I watched with an almost childlike glee as the paintball collided with the back of Violet's denim jacket. She fell forward onto the grass from the impact with a thud, and I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter.

"What the HELL?" I heard her shriek, twisting around to get a better look at what had caused her to lose her balance. She brushed herself off, giving Brad (a boy with mousy brown hair and crooked teeth and pretty gray eyes) a hard shove, accusing him of some type of treachery.

Dylan fell onto her back next to me, her body convulsing as each wave of laughter shook through her. She dropped the slingshot into my lap and I happily loaded another paintball (green this time) into it, took aim, and fired it right at Garrett's shoes.

He jumped, looking around frantically as if someone were shooting at him with real bullets. Dylan was slightly less amused at my change of targets, so I gave her a small shrug before firing another paintball at Violet. This one missed her, crashing into Brad's chest and painting his white t-shirt red.

He looked down and let out a high pitched wail, throwing himself down onto the ground in a panic. "I've been shot! I've been shot! Call 911!"

"It's paint you dipshit!" Violet snarled, yanking him back up by the front of his t-shirt, and I felt tears sting my eyes from laughing so hard. But it was Dylan's roar of laughter that compromised our position. "What was that?" Violet spun towards our general direction, and I pulled Dylan up by her shoulder.

"Go go go!" I yelled, urging her back through the window. She landed on my floor and let out an annoyed grumble, but quickly scrambled up and ran out my door as I threw one leg over my windowsill, straddling it as I fired.

"I'll lock the door!" She threw over her shoulder as I heard her slide down the stairs.

I wasn't even really aiming at this point, I was just trying to buy us enough time for Dylan to get to the front door before a very angry and paint-covered Violet , Garrett, and company could knock on the door and either a) assault us or b) tell our parents.

I locked eyes with Liam and fired my last paintball so hard that I fell backwards into my room, tumbling into the side of my bed. I didn't look back outside to see where it had landed, partially because I didn't care and partially because I did. But there was no going back now, so I slammed my window shut and drew the blinds down as Dylan reappeared in my doorway.

"That. Was amazing." She panted, throwing herself down onto my bed in a fit of giggles.

"And you thought your big sister wasn't 'cool' enough. Pft."

"Eight minutes does not make you the 'big' sister! Besides, I'm taller than you."

"Only because you wear heels!"

"Still counts." She folded her arms seriously across her chest, hanging her head off the side of my bed to give me a smug look upside down.

"Does not!"

"You know the only way to settle this, right?"

"Of course. And you're going down."

We parked ourselves in front of my TV, playing Mario Kart for the next three hours, and after many vigorous rounds, I emerged victorious, and consequently, the bigger sister. I didn't understand why Dylan was so hell bent on me having other friends. The relationship we had was perfectly fine with me. Besides, I knew no one else would ever be able to understand me like she did. I mean, it was a miracle in itself that somehow Kayleen liked me enough to call herself my friend. I wasn't gonna get that lucky twice in one lifetime.

My life was plain and boring, but it was a life. Some people didn't even get that. There wasn't really much to complain about. I had a loving family, a great friend, food on the table every night and a roof over my head.

I told myself this every night, that I should be grateful for the life I had. But still, something felt like it was missing. I felt an emptiness encompass me, a kind of emptiness I would have thought only to be associated with losing a limb or an organ. It felt like something inside of me was switched off, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

But one thing I did know was that a sudden influx of friends wasn't going to fix it. I was just better on my own. And there wasn't anything good or bad about it. That was just the way it was. I thought myself to sleep, with Dylan snoring softly at my feet.

I was awoken a few hours earlier than usual, with Dylan groggily shaking me awake and telling me to get my ass in gear or my ride was leaving without me. She had laid out a nice teal dress for me to wear, and I rolled my eyes, burying it back in my closet and pulling out jean shorts and a black t-shirt with "I've got nasty claws" scribbled on the front of it. I threw a teal flannel over it, just because I knew how much my sister hated it. I barely managed to tug on my shoes before I was being thrown out the door and into the back seat of the truck.

Fifteen minutes later and I was seated on the side of the lacrosse field, my head propped up in my hands as I tried to nap with my eyes open. It felt like hours had passed, and yet every time I checked my phone, it had only been another five minutes. At best.

When an hour _had_ finally passed, I was fading fast. I fought my eyelids as they desperately struggled to close, drowsiness setting in like a wave taking me under. I did everything I could to keep myself awake, from trying to draw, to reading, to untying and retying my boots.

"-Try paying for an MRI and a visit to Eichen House."

"Another notice?"

"Yeah, this one said final." Stiles and Scott's voices drifted over to where I was holed up in the bleachers, and I spotted them within seconds. They stood a few yards away from me, in between the bleacher sections, and I quickly picked up my bag and made my way over to them, eager for something to keep me awake.

And a chance to talk to Scott again.

If I didn't mess it up.

"What the hell are we even doing here anyway?! We got like one hundred and seventeen million problems, and worrying about our status on the lacrosse team is not one of them!"

"It is now…" Scott nodded towards the field, his eyebrows ascending on his forehead. Stiles turned his head, and I halted, following their gaze to the boy in goal. Garrett and a boy with long hair were relentlessly firing shot after shot at the net, and yet not a single ball actually made it past the goalie. _Not a single one_. It was almost inhuman.

"Who the hell is that?" Stiles asked, narrowing his eyes in thinly veiled aggravation. The goalie removed his helmet, revealing chocolate brown hair, flushed pale cheeks and piercing blue eyes.

"Liam?" I asked, feeling my eyes widen slightly. I wasn't exactly a lacrosse aficionado, but the kid was impressive.

"Noah! Hey!" Stiles turned toward me in one quick motion, throwing him slightly off balanced. "How long have you been standing there?" He scratched at the back of his head while I blinked at him.

"Um, not long?"

"You know him?" Scott asked, throwing another glance towards the field where Liam stood talking to Garrett. He gave Liam a pat on the back, and I felt my eyes instinctively roll.

"Sorta. He's in a few of my classes. He's new. He just transferred here from Devenford Prep. " I shrugged. "Um, I mean I think. I think I heard that. I'm not really too sure, it's not like I know everything about all new students who transfer here, cause that would be weird, right?" I gave a nervous laugh as I watched myself crash, burn, and do an interpretive dance in the flames.

I ran my fingers through my hair and cleared my throat, wincing at my general awkwardness. "But anyway, um, ha, so wh-what are you guys doing here?" I gave a bright smile as I mentally face palmed. "Um. Never mind that. Of course you guys are at lacrosse practice to practice lacrosse. But then again I mean you could be here to not practice lacrosse! You guys probably don't need to practice, right? Yeah, you could be here to not practice. I'm…I'm obviously here to not practice lacrosse."

Stiles had seemed to stop listening to this train wreck (whether it was for his sake or mine I was unsure, but I appreciated it nonetheless), and was now glaring intensely at Liam, still positioned in front of the goal. His nostrils flared as he huffed out an annoyed, "Maybe we should just practice a little bit…"

Scott kept his attention focused on me and laughed, a genuine smile plastered on his face. "Yeah, we're here to practice. What are you doing here anyway?"

"O-oh, I'm here because Dylan had a singing lesson, so my options were to a) accept a ride from my father and come in two hours early to sit by myself and count the blades of grass on the field or b) to take the bus. So it was a no brainer, really."

"Not a fan of the bus?" He smiled at me again, looking down to kick one of his cleats against the end of his lacrosse stick. How was he real? Was he real? Was I dreaming? I may be dreaming. He's looking at me with those warm eyes and that reassuring smile and he's looking kind of expectant now and that's-shit that's because I still haven't answered him.

I shook my head quickly, snapping myself out of whatever teenage hormonal trance I was stuck in. "I would rather be mauled to death by angry wolves. It's essentially the same thing, accept actually being mauled to death would involve less public humiliation."

"Well I'm glad that you haven't been mauled to death by angry wolves, or by angry freshman on the bus." Scott gave a nervous laugh (Nervous? Was he nervous? Why was he nervous?) and for a moment I stood there paralyzed. Everything was Scott McCall and nothing hurt.

A whistle blew from the field, followed by an angry "MCCALL!" and I jumped at the sudden increase of volume.

"Ah, I gotta get going before coach kills me, but I'll talk to you later?" He took off running towards the field, throwing on his helmet as I gaped at him, my eyebrows slightly rising on my forehead. I nodded wordlessly, more to myself than to him since he was already joining the circle of boys huddled up in front of the goal.

"Hey stranger," a hand clamped down on my shoulder and I let out a sharp scream, causing every single helmeted lacrosse player head to turn and look at me. "Oooh, invisible girl no more. It's a bit of an unconventional approach but I like it." I shoved Kayleen back behind the bleachers, giving her an extra slap on the arm.

"Are you _trying_ to kill me? Death by embarrassment is an actual thing, ya know."

"Haha sorry! I didn't think you'd scream that loud!" She doubled over in a fit of laughter as I felt my cheeks grow redder.

"You know how sensitive my ears are!"

"You're fine, walk it off champ." She slapped me on the back again while I glowered at her, envisioning an alternate reality in which feeding your friends to sharks was an acceptable way to deal with your aggression towards them. "So what were you talking to _Scott McCall_ about?" She wiggled her eyebrows at me and I felt panic rise in my chest.

I grabbed her by the back of her head, pulling her down to me so I could clamp my hand firmly over her big mouth. "SHHH!"

Her laughter was muffled, but still present, and I kicked her in the shin for good measure. "Will you chill? He can't hear us over here." She snorted, prying my hand off of her face.

"You don't know that!"

"Um, yes I do. It's not physically possible." Her eyes flicked back over to the field, where the boys were gathering up their equipment and heading towards the locker room.

"Whatever, humor me." I rolled my eyes, clenching my jaw stubbornly.

"Fine," She hunched closer to me, lowering her voice. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Thank you," I smiled, giving her a pleased nod. "We talked a little bit about that new kid, Liam? And then I proceeded to ramble and make a complete fool out of myself. The usual."

"I'm sure it wasn't _that_ bad."

"Oh it was. BUT! He made sure to tell me he'd talk to me later, so he doesn't think I'm a _total_ loser yet. That's a good sign, right?"

"Oh definitely. That's like, the best sign you can get from a guy. It's just under cheek kisses, and right above a punch in the face."

"Why do I still talk to you?"

"Because you refuse to talk to anyone else?"

"Yeah well I'm starting to rethink that decision." I mumbled, folding my arms across my chest.

"You're such a grumpy little kitten when you have to wake up early." Kayleen brushed her fingers across the top of my head, mussing up my hair. I ducked away, elbowing her in the ribs and biting at her hand.

"Aggressive too." She noted, and I gave her a smile as she looped her arm through mine, leading us back towards the school. "Where's Dyl?"

"Probably seducing anyone walking by the music room with her angelic harmonies." I clasped a hand on her arm and batted my eyelashes at her, pushing open the double doors with my free hand.

She rolled her eyes and swatted my hand away from her arm, grabbing it instead and twirling me underneath it.

"Well let's go see and show off our amazing on-the-spot choreography skills. I'm sure we can charm a few suckers of our own." She gave me a wink and pulled me back in towards her with a laugh.

"Let's ask Dylan to sing Time Of My Life. I'll be your Baby if you'll be my Johnny." She broke out into a grin and swayed me to the left and to the right, dipping me backwards.

"Okay but if we go down during that lift, I take no responsibility." She brought me back up in one swift movement, and without further warning, wound me up and spun me down the hallway with so much force I felt my hand disengage with hers. The world rushed passed me and I felt the wind get knocked out of me as I collided with something both hard and soft at the same time. Within seconds I found myself in a mess of tangled limbs on the floor.

"Yo, are you guys okay?" I looked up as Mason towered over me, grimacing as he watched Liam groggily rub at his head with a groan.

"Okay, _that_ I take a little bit of responsibility for." Kayleen rushed over, reaching an arm down to help me up.

"I am _so_ sorry," I pulled Liam up by the sleeve of his sweatshirt, adjusting it on his shoulders slightly and dusting him off as he stared at me completely dumbfounded.

"…Did I do something to offend you?" He squinted at me for a minute, a mixture of rage and confusion dancing across his face.

"…Wh-what?" I blinked at him a few times, completely caught off guard by his tone.

"I'm just trying to figure out why you keep _assaulting_ me." The anger had disappeared from his voice, bewilderment rapidly taking its place.

"I…I didn't mean to…it was an accident. A-and you ran into me yesterday in math!"

"Yeah. But I didn't launch a paintball at you from my roof." He shrugged one arm out of his sweatshirt, pulling it forward to reveal a bright blue paint stain splayed across the side of it. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, digging around in my brain for anything coherent to say. Instead, all that came out was:

"Uh…i-it matches your eyes?" Liam gaped at me for a minute, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead. Mason looked between the two of us like he was watching a car crash in action and he wasn't wrong.

"Okay, yeah we're gonna go…finish homework and such. Uh…yeah." Kayleen caught my arm in an iron grip as she began pulling me away from this catastrophe. "Maybe run that under some cold water." She nodded towards Liam, threw Mason a smile, and ushered the two of us down the hallway and around the corner to my locker. I was still dazed by the time we got there, staring blankly at the blue metal door in front of me.

"Noah?"

"Did I really tell him it matched his eyes?"

"Yes. Mhmm. That's a real thing that you did."

I leaned forward, propping my arms up against my locker and letting my head fall into them. "How could you let that happen?!"

"Listen, I tried my best." Kayleen held her hands up in defense.

"You spun me into him!" I turned to her exasperated, quickly turning the combination on my locker and popping the door open.

"It wasn't like it was on purpose! And I also didn't know you shot him last night…"

"It wasn't supposed to hit him! Well I mean it kind of was. Well not really. I mean, I don't actually know what it was supposed to do. I panicked."

"You do that a lot."

"I know!" I pulled out my notebook and slammed the locker shut, looking up at Kayleen helplessly.

"Oh sweetie, it's okay." She let out a comforting laugh, pulling me into a hug.

"It's not even 8am yet and I've managed to embarrass myself like, three times already." I mumbled into her shoulder as she patted my head.

"Well look at the bright side. It can't get much worse right?"

Wrong. That phrase is always wrong. Just the mere utterance of it completely reverses fate and changes the course of your destiny, in which things can and will get much, much worse.

**A/N: ****Guest, BrittWitt16, ****neverforgetme12, Janedoee7, JackieOh, melissawtf, DetectiveKateTodd, kaljara, aPaperheaRt, Lin148, mel, Izaria, AlexisLyn72, laheytrash, and floralwoof for your wonderful reviews! I know there wasn't much Liam in this chapter but I promise the next chapter is veryyy Liam-centric. I really wanted to showcase some of the lovely ladies in Noah's life in this chapter. :3 Let me know what you think!**


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